


One Night Only

by hearteyesforkillmonger



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alpha Erik Killmonger, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Daddy Kink, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Lust at First Sight, Marvel Universe, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Shameless Smut, Smitten Erik Killmonger, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-13 18:40:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16897893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearteyesforkillmonger/pseuds/hearteyesforkillmonger
Summary: Killmonger is a rapper and the reader is a fan going through a breakup. Story inspired by Kyla Jade’s rendition of One Night Only on The Voice. That girl sang that song I’m telling you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I put (Text) for text messages so I hope it isn't confusing. The formatting was lost from tumblr to here.

It’s been 3 weeks since you’ve dumped your no good cheating fiance, Amont. The memory of it upsets you all over again. You’d spontaneously left work to visit your man of two years and have lunch with him in his office. You’d done it before, but this time you planned to surprise him with his favorite dish from a local restaurant, crab stuffed tilapia. Then, you planned to show him what your mouth could do for dessert. You’d almost danced through the sun-lit modern lobby to reach the front desk. There was a waif of a white guy, pale with white coiffed hair who you remembered from the last year’s office Christmas party. When he was drunk he’d sworn he had an inner black woman and it rubbed you the wrong way. Amont didn’t understand why. He thought you were being overly sensitive.

“Hey Adam, is Amont at his desk?”

He gasped, momentarily frozen due to your sudden presence.

“Y/N,” he breathed, eyes darting about nervously. He almost tripped running around the desk to get to you. “What’s u–” you attempted to greet as he grabbed your free hand to yank you to the elevator. He quick-pushed the button ‘⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️’, neck craned backward to peer upward through the open concept floors to the people walking back and forth above. When the elevator came, he pushed you in and followed close behind, quick-pushing '55555’.

“You didn’t have to bring me, I could’ve went up on my own,” you said but Adam shook his head dramatically fast causing the lower half of his face to shake and pulled you from the elevator. Toward Amont’s office. The blinds were closed. With a finger to his lips, Adam gestured for you to be quiet and leaned his ear against the closed door. He backed up and aggressively waved you over. Hesitantly, you pressed your ear to the door.

Nothing at first, but then you heard faint moans coming from two mouths and you understood the gag. You turned to Adam and with his fingers gripping the air for enunciation purposes, he mouthed 'Beat. His. Ass.’

When you knocked on the door, there was a frenzied stirring and you snickered to yourself. You couldn’t believe it was real, you had to be on a reboot of PUNK’d. You knocked harder and the door swung open. Amont’s annoyed expression turned to wide eyes and while he gaped from the surprise of your sudden visit, you strolled right past him into the office. The silver frame that held your picture was face down and across from you, was a woman with hubris in her eyes. With a smirk, she tossed her long black hair over her shoulder and looked you up and down. Your attention went back to Amont and scanned his body. Your eyes fell on his unzipped zipper. He immediately looked down and covered it.

“Babe, it’s not what it looks like,” he’d tried to explain, but you didn’t want to hear that.

“Where is your ring,” is what you’d asked coolly.

The woman across the room raised her hand, the too big ring dangling on her skinny pale finger. All you could do was snicker in disbelief. Amont crossed the room retrieving the ring, to the woman’s distaste. She slapped him and stormed out of the office only stopping to scoff at you. Adam watched her retreat and re-entered the office marching right up to Amont. He grabbed and brought Amont’s fingers to his nose and pursed his lips shooting a knowing glance. Amont snatched his hand back refocusing on you.

“It’s not what you’re thinking. She was trying on the ring. We were talking about wedding vows and.. You came by. That’s all. I know it looks bad.”

“Talking must’ve changed its definition. I need a guy to talk to me like that,” Adam muttered.

“Do you think I’m stupid,” your voice raised and you felt your composure slipping. You were shaking. “Two years. Two years, Amont! We’re about to get married and you pull this shit now? REALLY? HELLO?” You shoved him and his head lowered.

“Okay yeah,” he said, “I’ve been messing with other people, but can you blame me? I’ve asked you several times for an open relationship and you said no. I’m a man, Y/N, I have needs and you’re only one woman.”

And there it waa. You laughed in disgust.

“You’re a coward,” you sneered, “If you weren’t happy you should have left instead of wasting my time!” With that, you’d snatched your ring off and threw it at him. You pushed the food to Adam and sped out of the building, driving away leaving Amont and that place in the dust.

He’d called multiple times. Your mom and sister had called. HIS mom had called. You ignored them all. You didn’t want to talk about it or see him again. You just wanted to be alone. That’s why you were in your apartment watching documentaries in your footy pajamas with a store bought pizza and a bottle of wine.

Correction, bottle of air.

It was your daily routine now. Work, eat, cry, sleep. You’d do all again tomorrow.

There’s a knock at the door and you look in the direction and back to the tv. The knocking returns and doesn’t stop, forcing you to open it. Anaya, your best friend since middle school storms in with Fabreeze and an attitude. She sprays everything and spins back to lay into you.

“You’ve been ghosting me for weeks now and I’m trying to be understanding. I mean, I get it.. he’s an ass, but did I not tell you so?”

Your eyes roll and though she’s right, “That’s why I don’t tell you things.”

She collapses in your spot on the couch and you drop next to her laying your head in her lap. She rubs your hair, and you’re soothed enough to let your tears fall. Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything. She just lets you cry until it’s all out.

You can feel that your eyes are puffy as you sniff and sit up. She scoots off to the bathroom to bring you a roll of tissue.

“Heh, thanks,” you sniff. She rubs your back while you wipe your face and blow your nose. You notice her grimace when you blow and it makes you laugh. You’re able laugh a few more times with Anaya and she stays over making you a little less lonely.

–

You wake up in the early morning to Anaya shaking and patting you. It’s appropriate since you’re a heavy sleeper. You roll off the couch and the falling sensation jolts you alert. “Yep, I’m up,” you say as you climb to your feet using the coffee table as leverage.

“I’ve got to bounce, but hey, clear Saturday for me. I mean, you won’t be doing anything anyway I’m sure, but..” Anaya reads your blank expression and walks back over to warmly place her hand on your cheek. She taps it a couple of times, “10 a.m. Be dressed.” With that, she’s gone and you have to go to work.

–

Saturday rolls around and you drag yourself off the couch and into the shower exchanging your footie pajamas for a t-shirt, leggings, and Nikes. You pour yourself a glass of wine and collapse back onto the couch until your phone buzzes against the table

Come outside.

You grab it off the table, throw it in a purse, and head downstairs.

“Really Y/N? This is what you decide to wear?”

“You didn’t say where we were going,” you shrug knowing you’d have worn this regardless.

“Well since you’re dressed for the gym, I guess we’ll start there and work some of that pizza off of you,” she pushes your tummy, “Woohoo!”

“Shut up,” you laugh.

She wasn’t kidding. The two of you end up hitting the gym to sweat like a pigs before heading to Cheesecake Factory for mimosas and French toast, kind of defeating the purpose. She drives to the mall and totes you around for hours, guiding you from store to store. You buy a choker and new pants that you can wear to work and new underwear. She buys a few outfits. Then, it’s back to Anaya’s place. Her apartment smells like Lemon Lavender, her favorite candle scent.

“I haven’t been here in so long,” you say taking a seat at her counter-height table. “Who’s fault is that,” she smiles.

“Yours.”

“You a lie.. and get off my chair with that swamp butt and take you a shower.”

“You tryna get me naked’” your eyebrow raises in jest, “What am I supposed to change into?”

She disappears and returns with a large white t-shirt, no doubt her boyfriend’s. You grab it and shower. She showers after you and changes into another large white shirt. She throws your clothes in the washer.

Thirty minutes into gossip and chill, Anaya has her fingers in your mass of kinky curls. “When’s the last time you washed this?” I shrug, “a month ago?”

“Okay, I’m a say this in love because I care about you. You can’t neglect your hair that long because it’ll mat and tangle and you need moisture. Your scalp is dry and your hair is dull. Baby girl ya look dusty.”

“Okay so fix it, you’re the one with a shop. I’ll pay you.”

“Ooh bitch, you don’t have to tell me twice. Can I do whatever I want?” You nod, “Yep, surprise me.”

She escorts you to her kitchen sink, detangles, and washes your hair massaging shop products through your scalp. Then she blows out your hair.

“Where’s Corey,” you ask. Corey is her boyfriend and he’s probably the sweetest guy you’ve ever met. Anyone with eyes could see how smitten he was with her. You’d been happy when you saw how happy Anaya was when they started dating and that was a year ago. They were truly couple goals.

“Oh he’s at Kevin’s playing 2k, he won’t be back for a while…” She grabs the flat iron and starts straightening your hair, no more than 2 or 3 passes. She trims your ends into a blunt line and swoops one side of your hair behind your ear, gelling your baby hairs into Instagram worthy spirals. “You’ve got inches girl! Now walk with me.” You follow her into her and Corey’s shared bedroom and play from your Pandora station as she pulls out her suitcase of makeup, Migos comes on. She twerks in approval.

She sports a face of extreme concentration as she gives you a natural beat with filled in brows, popping with gold highlight and dark red lips. You look in her mirror and immediately start feeling yourself. You even dance because you look like you again, pre-mini depression. You’re gung ho when Anaya dives into her closet to complete your makeover with Corey’s black and gold jersey, a pair of her black strappy heels, and some gold jewelry.

“All I need is some grills,” you say making your toughest gangsta face in the mirror. Anaya joins you in the mirror and for the next hour or so you two just laugh and dance. “Please keep this energy,” she pleads. You pull her into a tight squeeze and she stays in your embrace for a good minute before pushing you away, “Ok, ok. Enough with the sappy stuff, help me. What should I wear?” You help her put together an outfit and then do her makeup with clean brushes, making her beat more severe just like she likes it. You take a picture together and she posts it on her Instagram. “I hope Amont sees this and eats his heart out,” she says. The mention of his name causes your face to fall and you see the instant regret in her squinted eyes. She immediately shakes it off, “You know what? You need to get over him and I’m going to help you. That’s why I took it upon myself to get us Killmonger tickets for tonight.”

You let out a shrill shriek and your tone is accusatory, “I knew you were up to something!”

She continues, “You have no idea, love… You’re going to find a guy in that crowd to flirt with, dance, and get your groove back. It’ll be great. Then… we’ll go backstage and talk to the artist himself up close.”

You shriek louder this time, sure that her neighbors are terrified, “I love him!” Your face flushes, “how’d you get backstage passes?”

“Corey knows a guy. I told him I wanted to get us tickets and he pulled some strings, boom backstage passes.”

“Anaya, I love your boyfriend. Keep him.”

She chuckles, “Oh he ain’t going anywhere and neither am I.”

“Good. I’m going to have to buy him something or do something for him.”

“He likes shoes, videogames, Olive Garden, anything Gucci. He’s a label whore although most of his stuff is fake,” you take a mental note and she continues, “Im really glad you’re exited about tonight.. we do have to leave like now though.” You’re ready.

–

The venue is standing room only and there are hood niggas and thotboys everywhere, but there are also a ton of women. The women are dressed to slay. The opening act is really good. She’s a new singer who goes by Okoye. Her voice is stunningly beautiful and you make a mental note to look her up later. At the end of her set, you buy drinks for you and Anaya.

One guy approaches the both of you with casual pleasantries, but his wandering eyes travel from Anaya’s cleavage to your thighs. You move away from him while he’s mid-sentence and Anaya follows, looking back to see him chat up some other woman. You’re approached twice more. One guy, Trey, justs wants to leave you his number in hopes you’ll call him and take him up on his offer of a date. He was actually pretty cute with nice teeth and he was tall. Anaya was proud. The other to approach you was a woman. Shakila was her name and she favored Tiffany Haddish. You’d taken her number too.

The hype man came out and everyone began to make noise on command.. and then Killmonger ran out. Everyone went nuts. You were hollering so loud that Anaya held her ear so you wouldn’t destroy her eardrum.

With attitude, you rapped along with the hook of nearly every song and danced along with the people around you. You weren’t close to the stage, but you didn’t care. There were a bunch of girls at the stage and they’d pushed to get there. They deserved those spots. Killmonger performs with energy rivaling that of Desiigner, but with Kendrick swag. He embodied the West Coast energy so completely.

Halfway through his set, he’d slowed things down to talk some real shit about life and relationships. The part that stood out to you, you would carry with you and remember long after the concert.

“This next song.. I wrote after a breakup, shoutout to Kendra. I was sitting in my car just thinking about where we stood.. wondering if being with her was more important than my goals, wondering why I couldn’t have both. Why was the relationship so fragile that I couldn’t do what I needed to do and still keep her? People always talk about forever in relationships, but that’s bullshit. Then it hit me. Even love has a lifespan and once you realize that, your whole approach changes. You learn to get what you can get from it and move on. If you got a shorty or a nigga you feeling.. that shit ain’t forever, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be sweet.”

The intro to Sweet Route, a song you’ve been overplaying, begins and you feel every word resignate within you. You reach for Anaya and she holds your hand as you fight through memories of Amont, telling yourself to be thankful for the good moments and let him go. You had to admit, Killmonger had a point and if you could embrace it, you could move on.

–

As the concert reaches its finale, you make your way backstage with Anaya close behind. Your geeked to find out your name is on a celebrity’s list, but you compose yourself.

You spot Okoye, the bald and brown goddess, and you approach her to compliment her performance. She thanks you and you take a picture with her.

“Am I bugging or were you blushing just then,” Anaya teases and you kiss your teeth. The two of you mingle and you’re having a great time. Then you notice him. There’s a woman clinging to his body and another shamelessly seducing him, her fingers dancing on his chin hair. You want to speak to him too, but you decide to wait.

Time ticks on and the women change each time you glance over. Anaya gently pushes your lower back, “We’re running out of time, go!” You’re hesitant to disturb the flirt fest, but your feet surge forward until you’re in front of him. His eyes meet yours and begin to smile.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming over,” he smiles. His signature gold fangs bring a wave of heat to your body. The girls clutch him tighter as though they’re holding him back from you. He looks down and taps their hands as a cue to release him.

“I didn’t want to interrupt anything, but I did want to meet you and say you’ve inspired me,” you say, “I’m getting over a break-up and your song has been instramental to my growth.”

“Y/N?” His head tilts in question. You’re taken aback by the sudden recognition in his eyes, “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Corey,”

You nod.

“He called my boy asking about backstage passes and that’s when I heard about your situation.” You cringe. How much did he know?

“Ain’t no nigga worth crying over,” he says matter of factly. He definite knows, dammit Corey.

“You’re right.. yesterday was the last day. We were great while we lasted, but there’s something different out there for me.”

He pauses, hesitant about something. Then he pries himself away from the waiting girls, leading you by your hand from the bustle and into a secluded area. When there are only the two of you, he tilts your chin and lowers his face to meet yours in a tender, lingering kiss. Surprise melts into acceptance and your eyes flutter close. When his lips separate from yours, your warm eyes match his.

“There’s something BETTER out there for you. Put that nigga out your mind completely and it’ll be drawn to you.”

You’re breathless as you realize that kiss wiped away any remnants of your feelings for Amont. With one kiss, he’d broken the spell. Unfortunately, he’d cast a new one and you felt the effects of it between your thighs.

The proximity never lessened and his eyes never left yours. There was electricity and you both felt it.

“Let’s get out of here,” he smirks.


	2. Chapter 2

“Let me tell my friend I’m leaving. I don’t want her to worry about me.”

“Nah, bring her with you. I’ll drop her at her place.”

You’re reluctant to break the eye contact, but you manage to ease away without backing into anything to seek out your friend. You find her laughing with Okoye and approach with a smile and a slight bow hoping Okoye will pardon your interruption as you tap Anaya’s arm.

“Hey girl,” Anaya chirps. Okoye grins at you and waves before hugging Anaya and stepping away. Your wide eyes return to question Anaya’s and she grins. “What was that just now,” you ask.

“I’m a social butterfly what can I say? I started talking to her because why not, right? She said she liked my makeup and I told her you did it. Then I told her I do hair and she mentioned a terrible wig she’d been forced to wear. There was a whole story, it’s hilar-” you put your hand up.

“Sorry! I wanna hear this story, I do, but I need you to come with me now,” you lower your hand and shoot your eyes to the exit where Killmonger waits out of view. Anaya’s eyes follow and she grabs your hands, “Is he still back there? I saw you walk back there with him. What happened,” she whispered fast, channeling all of the yelling she could not do into her vice grip on your hands.

“I’m leaving with him,” you smile mischieviously and her jaw drops, “but you’re coming too, he’s dropping you at home.” You pull on your hands and her body follows yours to the exit. You reach Killmonger and Anaya’s eyes are still huge, but now they’re staring at him. Starstruck, you think to yourself. You’ll definitely tease her later. Killmonger smirks and rubs his beard then drapes his arms around the both of your shoulders escorting you both outside. There’s a black car with tinted windows in wait and Killmonger opens the passenger door beckoning Anaya, who floats inside, before ushering you into the back where he joins you.

Anaya chatters to the chauffeur all the way to her place. He’s barely said two words back to her, but those two words were enough to keep her going. You cast Killmonger a knowing smile, and when he looks down you can feel that he’s laughing inside with you at your friend who’s talking non-stop. His arm is wrapped around you and your face is nuzzled into his chest while your arm is wrapped around his torso. His other hand takes turns stroking your cheek and your bare thigh. You fight the urge to swing your leg over his lap and mount him because Anaya is still in the car.

When Anaya steps out, the chauffeur waits and you watch until she gets into her building before the car pulls off. As soon as the car is in motion, a partition goes up and Killmonger pulls your thigh over his lap so that you’re straddling him. His hands rub your back, your ass, and your thighs and his tongue darts out to dampen his full lips. Like a magnet, your lips attach to his and your tongue invades his mouth. He smiles into the kiss and his tongue joins yours in a war where both of you are fighting desperately for more territory. His right hand holds firm to your waist and his left hand fists into your hair deepening the kiss to the point that it seems you’re no longer breathing air, but you’re inhaling each other. You’re forced to come up for air and and you have to fight the strength of his hand so that he’ll let you.

“Where are we going,” you breathe, nearly panting. His free hand returns to meet his other on your waist, “Hotel.” You nod and your eyes fall back to his lips. You bite your lower lip and his low rumbling groan echoes through your ovaries. You rub your hands over his muscular chest and lower your lips to his neck, running your tongue wildly over a patch of brown flesh. He smells like shea butter and oils. You inhale, gyrating your hips against his erection. He exhales a gust of air and when you bite down on his neck, he lets out a quick hiss. You suck the sensitive spot and his short nails bite hard into your skin as he grips your ass with both hands under your jersey. You tense at the returned pain. He slaps your ass hard with both hands and you groan into his neck. He snakes one hand down your belly and between your thighs. It slips into the thin material of your panties and a finger glides up and down your slit.

“You hella wet right now,” he comments as his thick middle finger slides into you, massaging your walls. His ring finger follows and they curve meticulously, massaging your g-spot. You bury your lips into his neck and dig your nails into his biceps to prevent moaning too loudly. His thumb massages your clit and the pressure from his fingers build and beckon your body to buck and tense.

“That nigga bout dumb as shit for cheating,” he murmurs as his fingers dive relentlessly into your noisy wetness, increasing their speed, driving your eyes to the back of your head. “You better fuckin nut before I get a cramp in my wrist,” he growls in your ear and you half laugh, half moan. With his shoulder and neck to muffle your howl, you release. Your body goes slack and your ears ring as you slump over him, breathing heavily. When your eyes finally open, his fingers slide out of your pussy. He separates his fingers and a small string of wetness stretches between them. He sucks them into his mouth and hungrily licks his lips and then the car stops. You lazily raise your head to look out of window and the partition comes down. You climb off of Killmonger’s lap and he gets out, walking around the car to open your door. You gather your purse and step out to see a large futuristic-looking building you recognize as the Watergate Hotel. You’d seen this place before, but you’d never been inside. He guides you by the small of your back to the vast interior and you’re awed by the sleek design. The lobby is just as intriguing as the building’s exterior.

“You good,” Killmonger asks distracting you from your admiration. His eyebrow raises in humor and you pull his waist into an embrace, “I’m just thinking about how I’ve lived in DC for so long and I’ve never been in here.”

“You gotta get out more,” he smirks. You scoff and and roll your eyes. He’s got a sense of humor.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me,” his head tilts and lowers causing his dark eyes to twinkle under the light. Your lips part, unsure of what to say. His eyes flicker and it’s as if you’ve imagined it, but you thought you saw something almost sinister in his gaze. It sends a chill up your spine.

“What’s wrong,” he murmers, his eyes still trained on yours. “For a second I thought I saw something.. it’s nothing.” You shrug off the strange feeling and continue with him to the elevators. Afterall, you knew what you came for. Your body craved more of what it tasted in that car and it refused to let you leave before it got it.

The room is pure luxury with one bed and a floor to ceiling window complete with a white balcony. You go over to draw the curtain, ready to get back to what was started in the car, and he follows behind you to open it back. He grabs your arms and shuffles you to the bed.

“Sit,” he commands and you do what you’re told. He pulls up a chair and sits across from you. “I need you to listen to me and hear me right now,” he says resting his large hands on your naked thighs. Your nana clenches and you bite your lip. He leans forward and plants a quick kiss on your lips before pulling away, “Y/N, I need you to focus on my words right now and speak to me honestly.”

“You have my full attention,” you spout eagerly and he continues. You can’t tear your eyes away from his mouth as he speaks, entranced by his golds.

“Earlier you said that I was instrumental to your growth. You believe that?..,” You force yourself to meet his fervent gaze and the intensity makes you hesitate, but after giving the question some thought, he’d waited, you reply honestly.

“After I left.. my ex.. I was really.. down. It was as though all of my plans of a life and family together had crashed and burned. I was bitter because of the loss I felt. I thought he was my forever and that when he cheated, he’d stolen that from me.. But in actuality he didn’t steal anything.”

Killmonger nods slowly and you continue, “There are no forevers. I walked away from a relationship that no longer served me and I need to move on to one that does. I see that now,” you look down hesitant to admit this next part, but it comes out. “I actually kept that song, Sweet Route, on loop.. and told myself that I’d be twice as sweet to and twice as quick to move on from whoever I meet next.”

He chuckles recognizing his lyrics, “Is that so.” You smirk, “Yeah, it’s kind of like you’re my teacher and the class is Living Your Best Life and Letting Go of the Bullshit 101.”

He cups your chin gently in his hand and strokes your face with his thumb, eyes still smiling, “Baby? That’s the corniest shit I’ve ever heard. Get the fuck out.”

You slap his hand off of you and he laughs so hard your face cracks and you join him. “I’m just saying,” you qualify.

“Nah, I feel you,” he says, “and I have a proposition for you.” You angle your chin down to view him in suspicion, “Go on,” you smile.

“Let me be your teacher,” he looks at his watch. “Stay with me until I leave for New York tomorrow.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded, but in your heart you’ve already said yes. You’d stay longer if he’d asked. Part of you wishes so hard that he’d ask.

“If you believe in what I said, it doesn’t matter how short the relationship is as long as it’s real, right?”

You nod. He has a point and you don’t need to be convinced. You want this, however short it may be. You felt the electricity between you spark, even now. He continues, “So just for tonight, let me own you completely. All the attention you gave that nigga, I want double. Everything you got. I want it. And tomorrow, you got me.”

“How am I supposed to fit 4 years into a night,” your eyebrows knit together. He presses his fingers into the space between your brows and smoothes it so that your expression softens, “Baby that’s why you need me,” he murmurs.

“Just say yes,” he says sliding his hand between your thighs. Your breath hitches. His index hooks into the damp seat of your panties and his knuckles massage your pussy. “Speak,” he commands. As your lower lips part against his knuckle, exposing your clit to the sweet friction, your lips part into a gasp, “Yes..”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, teacher?..” you question, not sure of the response he wants, but wanting to please him.

“I need to know you mean that shit,” he growls, “convince me.”

“How,” you ask breathlessly and his smirk returns. “You serious about me babygirl?”

“Yes, teacher,” you breath.

You feel your panties as they pull and hear them rip.

“Then call me daddy.”

“Yes, daddy,” you correct yourself.

“Good girl.. Now take all that shit off and kneel by the window facing me.”

You blink in shock and he raises his eyebrow in challenge, “I don’t like repeating myself.”

This is not the type of thing you usually did. When you had sex with Amont, it had never gotten this raunchy.

Killmonger’s hand flies around your throat, squeezing it hard and you struggle to breathe. The unexpected lack of oxygen rips you violently into the present. His eyes are full of a dark energy.

“Next time I have to repeat myself I'ma throw you over that balcony and fuck you for everyone to see.” You gasp in response, all you can do. His eyes scan your body and he releases his grip. Confusion, fear, and strangely enough.. an intense lust surges through you and you immediately begin removing your jersey, your bra, and your jewelry. He neatly places it all on the room’s desk. You silently pray that no one can see you through the tall glass and you kneel facing Killmonger. He strides over to you until his clothed erection is directly before you. He squats so that you’re eye to eye. You gaze at his strong features, so close to you, and reach out to touch him but he catches your wrist in his hand.

“Any time I catch you thinkin bout that nigga I’m a bring you back to me,” he murmurs, “and when I’m done with you tonight you not gon’ remember his name.” With that, he rises to his full height and grabs your chin.

“Show me how you suck dick.”

You release a sharp exhale, but you wouldn’t make him say it twice this time. You make quick work of unzipping his pants and almost flinch when his erection springs free. You’d felt it under you in the car, but you didn’t anticipate the third arm that popped out strong as if trying to black your eye. It held weight. You wouldn’t back down though, you wanted this. You channeled your inner porn star and gripped his dick, stroking it in your hand before feeding the large tip into your mouth. Your head bobs back and forth and round and round, forming a wet suction like a human fleshlight. You’re completely locked into your Superhead role and it’s getting you even wetter. You suck in as much dick as you can and your eyes water. You feel his hand sweep your hair from your face.

“Look at me when you do that shit baby,” he moans as your head bobs and your tounge flicks. Your free hand finds your clit. You’re getting off on this. You were never this nasty with… with… you groan around the dick… whoever, fuck that nigga! You pull back to catch your breath and dribble a huge glob of drool on his already glazed and glistening shaft. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls you back onto himself, “I ain’t say stop.”

His firm hold keeps you in place and triggers your gag reflex, but you control it. “Throat my shit baby,” my mumbles and to your own surprise, you do. “Ah fuck,” he breathes and it’s music to your ears. He loosens his grip allowing you to come up gasping for air again and he bends, swallowing your lips into an aggressively sloppy kiss.

He pulls away, eyes aflame and you’re sure your expression is just as wild with the way you’re breathing.

“Get on the bed… ass up, face down.”


	3. Chapter 3

You leap onto the fluffy white and grey comforter and assume the position and he’s right behind you, hands rubbing over your ass.

“Do you trust me,” he asks from behind you.

“Yes,” you blurt, and then you add “with my life.” It sounds heavy, but although you just met him, it’s your truth.

“Mm.. and who owns you baby?”

“You own me, daddy.”

“Don’t forget that shit..” There’s a smile in his voice.

Something about his energy and his voice goes straight through every nerve and tunnels to your aching core and you can’t shak–

“HO!” you’re ripped from your thoughts by the sensation of his wet tongue violating your defenseless asshole. You flinch in surprise, but his tongue comes in hot and snakes all over your now clenching asshole.

“Relax, baby,” he breathes into you. Your mouth forms an O as you lay there stunned, face heated, embarrassed to be enjoying this lewd act. You’d never expected anything like this to happen, but here you were in a hotel room, ass up, with your favorite rapper’s tongue pressed into it. Life comes at you fast.

A high whimper escapes you when his rough hands squeeze your cheeks and pull them apart leaving you completely exposed, and his tongue continues to rim the sensitive hole as your breathing becomes labored. You can feel your pussy contract as he spits in your asshole, inserting his stiffened tongue all the way in as if it was an empty pudding cup and he was reaching for the last bits of sweetness. You try to pull away from the intensity of the feeling, but he pulls your hips back and his eager tongue pursues, fucking the sound from your mouth.

The noise you make is inhuman and it surprises you, but he takes it as his cue to drag his long tongue from the top of your asscrack to the top of your clit and back again and again, lapping at your wetness in the middle.

“Oh my god,” you moan and your legs hover off of the bed, arch forgotten. His hand comes down hard on your asscheek in a hard slap.

“Arch that shit.”

You attempt.

His middle fingers find their way into your juicy pussy, causing it to smack loudly as he vigorously attacks your g-spot, tongue returning to lap at your asshole.

“Oh….shiiit,” you breathe. You’re on the edge. His fingers command the tension in your core to build into a high heat that burns through the rest of your body and your face contorts into an expression you’re grateful he cannot see as you spill quick, stunted whines into the comforter. Your eyes are lost somewhere in your sockets.

“Give it up baby,” his other hand rubs your clit and almost instantly your body convulses, orgasm spreading through you like an electric current giving you a headrush.

“That’s my girl,” his warm voice soothes while you’re in still heaving and in shambles.

The bed dips and his hand creeps from the sole of your foot, up your calf, up your thigh, over your ass and down your arched back. Then he’s beside you. You glance up and see his magnificently built torso, covered with those infamous scars. You’d seen them in photos, but he’s never explained their meaning to the public. You were curious.

“Ask me,” he says addressing your gaze. There’s a dare in his tone. Your attention shifts to his eyes, burning into yours, shrouded in that familiar dark energy, and you swallow. A micro movement causes your eyes to flit to his hand and he’s toting his belt.

Smirking, his face inches closer to yours, demanding eye contact as he bends. Your eyes drag from his lips to oblige. He lingers, stealing the breath you’ve just regained and for a moment in time, you’re a deer and his eyes are the headlights.

“Bitch, I warned ya ass.”

You blink in question and before the meaning registers, his hands are hard around your throat yanking you into an upright position.

Realization of your grave mistake smacks you and you sputter in fear, “Wa–Wait! I’m sorry, I’m–”

His fingers fist though your hair and pull against your scalp roughly as he moves to the balcony, forcing you to hobble behind. He throws open the heavy-looking glass door and tosses your head foward with as just much force. You stumble over the balcony and your heart almost jumps out of your chest as your whole torso goes over. His hands are on you quick as you dangle over the cold white stone. The chill of the night air pricks your naked skin, giving you goosebumps all over and you realize there are patrons walking below. Afraid to draw their attention, you clamp your lips shut and his large erection strokes your entrance, teasing. His hand returns to fist into your hair, snapping your head back while his other hand keeps you from falling and he pushes into you. Your pussy muscles clench around him and you know you won’t last long like this. Your body buckles under the pressure of his powerful thrusts and then he dives deeper. You can’t help the sqwuak that comes from your lips as you look down praying to God no one looks up.

“You love daddy’s dick, don’t you,” he grunts.

“Uhh god,” you gasp into the night air, “I love daddy’s dick.”

His stroke gets rougher and more aggressive and you grasp for the thick stone post in front of you, missing. The pounds are relentless and unceasing.

“I can’t hear you baby.”

Louder you moan the words, “I love daddy’s dick,” and you can feel in his desperate, wall-destroying thrusts that he’s close to cumming too.

“You tight as fuck,” he gasps breathlessly.

The grip on your hair tightens and the tension against your tender scalp brings tears to your eyes, but the dick stretching you and pushing deep into your guts makes you ignore and fight through the pain.

“Say it louder baby,” he growls and everything within you says fuck it.

“I LUH DADDY’S DICK OH MY GOD,” you yell and a few people look up as your orgasm rips through your body causing you to free a long moan that had been welling in your gut.

“You fuckin nasty baby,” he chuckles as he continues his assault on your spasming pussy. You close your eyes, spent, to avoid the entertained stares of the small group of onlookers and then it happens. He grunts his orgasm into you and his seed warms your insides.

The hand on your hair releases, falling to your throat and he pulls you back upright so that your back is pressed against his scarred chest. Your thighs and your knees feel weak and your hips ache. His other hand wraps around your waist as kisses your neck gently, breathing into it to calm his breathing. For a while you two remain in that position with the cool breeze washing over you. Then he’s sweeping you up into his arms and carrying you back inside where he drops you back onto the bed.

He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a white towel. It’s damp and he wipes you off, although you’ll probably be dripping down there for a while.

With an achey body and an empty head, your eyelids close and you feel the the bed dip, his arm turning you onto your side. His textured chest meets your back and as his arm wraps around you, you drift off.

—

You feel pecks of kisses littering your face, landing on your nose, forehead, cheek, chin, lips, your eyes open. Killmonger is propped up beside you sitting up on his arm. He kisses pecks your lips a few more times and you come back to yourself.

“What time is it,” you groan.

“2:25 a.m.,” he says with another peck and you groan again, but this time through a thinly veiled smile of pure bliss. You’re so glad it wasn’t a dream.

He sits up and you notice he has his pants on. “Where are you going,” your voice comes out sounding nervous. Were you this needy already?

He smiles and grabs your hand, pulling you up. Your jersey is on the bed waiting for you and he’s moving to bring your shoes.

“Get up, Y/N. You ain’t sleeping through my time.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Where we going Daddy?” You pull on your heels while he puts on his shirt and follow him from the room. He stops in front of a neighboring door and whips out his phone, dialing a number. It sounds like the person on the other end was sleep too.

“Bring my keys to the door,” Killmonger demands and hangs up. Sure enough the door cracks and a hand comes out offering the keys. “Do you need me to drive you,” the yawning voice asks. “I don’t need you to do shit but go back to sleep,” Killmonger counters, grabbing the keyring.

“Be safe and please don’t do anything reckless,” the man cautions. Killmonger was known by the news outlets to be unpredictable and based on your experience so far you’d come to the same conclusion, but his spontaneity was a plus. It had led to him choosing you.

“Nigga go to bed,” Killmonger says folding and closing the man into his room. He grabs your hand and tugs you toward the elevator. You pass a large mirror mounted on the wall and still, silently freaking the fuck out. Your hair is wild and your makeup is smudged. “I look like the damn Joker! You’d really let me go out like this?”

“Keeps the niggas away.”

“Ain’t no damn niggas it’s almost 3 AM,” you snark.

“Then it don’t matter.”

You meet his eyes in the mirror and it looks like he’s fighting a laugh, but after seeing your serious face he agrees to take you to a bathroom near the lobby to wipe your face.

–

Bedside you in the mirror of the women’s restroom is a very amused Killmonger. 

“This isn’t what I had in mind,” you reach to guide his hand away from your eye as he scrubs at your face with a damp paper towel. 

“Move your hand, I got this.” 

He removes the makeup as best as he can and finger-combs your flat ironed tresses into submission, tucking one side behind your ear like you had it. Once he catches your brief blissful expression from his attention to the scalp he’d earlier abused, his fingers bless your scalp with a quick massage. 

“On muvas this feels so good,” you moan at the magic of his fingertips. 

“The fuck are you talking about.. this damn DC talk.” 

“DMV,” you correct, and then his hand is pulling yours, leading the way from the bathroom and down the hall, by the desks, and out the door into the cool night air. The air hugs the skin on your arms and legs giving you goosebumps and your thoughts travel back to that balcony…

“What were you going to to with that belt back in the room? You were holding it like you were ready to use it,” you smile at his back as he guides you through the night to the parking lot.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m a still use it on ya disobedient ass.”

“I wasn’t asking like that, I ain’t me–”

“Mhm,” he cuts you off and you can tell from the contour of his profile that his look is smug. Your jaw drops, your face incredulous.

“Oh nah, you think I want my ass beaten like a lil five year old child who drew on a wall?”

“Yep,” he walks another step then spins to grab the sides of your head, kissing your forehead, “I knew you were into that aggressive shit the first time I kissed you,” he smirks devilishly turning away to enter his car.

“And what if I use that belt to spank you,” you threaten from the passenger seat, fastening your seatbelt like you belong there.

“You can do whatever you want babygirl… when the sun comes up.”

Looking him up and down in this moonlight, there’re a few things you can think to do. “Keep that same energy tomorrow nigga,” you smile. You can’t wait to flip this script. He reaches for your hand and plants a soft kiss on your inner wrist. The electricity returns to your belly. The kiss turns into a lick and the sight of his pink tongue sliding over your skin has you ready to risk it all. Is there anything left to risk? In this very moment, you’d risk it. The lick turns into a passionate suction and then he bites.. HARD!

“Whatthefuu..,” you snatch back your wrist assessing the damage. No skin broken, but there are teeth indentations and you’re bruising. 

“Next time watch your mouth.”

He turns on the radio and one of his recent hits begins to play. He changes the station. You change it back. It’s a banger. “I love this song,” you gush and he rolls his eyes as you rap along to the verses, performing with attitude as though you wrote the words yourself. He stops at a light and through the corner of your eye you see him watching you. You throw a few quick dabs for his benefit and grin at him. His eyes light up and the corner of his lip ticks up, but he shakes his head like you’re lame and turns to look out his window. It tickles you to know you have an effect on him too.

You sing terribly along with another couple of bops that come on and then you spot the golden arches coming up on his side of the road. This beautiful ass, talented ass, rich ass nigga was taking you to McDonald’s at 3 AM for your first date and you couldn’t be happier. He pulls into the nearly deserted parking lot and points to you.

“Stay.” You obey while he gets out and walks around to open your door. When you don’t move, he grabs your hand in attempt to guide you out. You resist.

“Daddy said stay. I gotta stay,” you look up innocently, watching the transition as his face goes from annoyed to unbothered. 

“Bet,” is all he says and the change in his posture alerts you that you’ve fucked up yet again. If you’ve learned anything about this man tonight it’s that he does not deal in empty threats and he does not let shit go. You move to exit the vehicle, deciding not to play with this man and he pushes you back into your seat.

“Nah. Get comfortable baby,” he says unzipping his jeans and freeing his erection from his briefs.

“You wanna be obedient and shit now.. Open your mouth and put your hands on your knees.” 

Your eyes briefly flit about the lot, noticing no onlookers and you obey. He grabs the back of your head, pulling it towards him and slowly thrusts into your mouth, “Don’t bite my dick.”

“And if those hands leave ya knees I’m carrying you inside the McDonald’s to finish.”

You squeeze your knees and you mentally glue your hands to them. He thrusts and when you suck he pulls himself out with a pop to smack himself against your lips. “Open your mouth,” he commands and when you do he spits in your mouth and shoves his dick back in. With his fingers fisted into your tresses, he fucks your face hard and fast. The aggression makes you wonder if he’s truly angry at you, but his voice reassures you.

“Uh uh baby look at me..” he breathes, “just like that with them pretty ass eyes..” 

You gag again and he pinches your nose shut, tempting you to swat him as your nails drag up,, but you keep your palms hard on your knees. He smirks into a low chuckle and releases your nose, but stays in your mouth.

“Oh you wanna be good now, huh.” He pulls out to let you breathe, but you drive your head back onto his shaft and start bobbing. He relents to your aggression and when you glance up his head is thrown back.

“Fuck!.. Keep doing that shit.“

You push past the tiredness of your jaw to continue, feeling every twitch of his dick until you milk him and then, like the good girl you want to be, you swallow and keep sucking,

“Damn..,” he wavers, “Shhhhit, ahh,” he pulls back and he’s breathing heavily as he zips himself back up. You get out of the car and hug him. His embrace swallows you and he kisses your forehead. When your stomach rumbles, he grabs your hand again and leads you into the McDonalds.

–

Selfies and group shots with the celebrity sprung into action almost as soon as you guys entered the McDonalds. There were only a few people working, but you could tell his presence brightened their night. The cashier recognized his face on sight and his eyes widened with this palpable joy, you’d felt it as all professionalism left his demeanor.

You drink your Large sweet tea and munch on the chicken nuggets he paid for and he sits across from you eating a Big Mac and apple slices. You haven’t been inside of a McDonald’s since you were young and this entire picture seems so surreal.   

“I actually.. did want to ask you,” you start and you have his full attention, “what’s the meaning behind your scars?” He takes another bite of Big Mac and chews before responding, “I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell anyone.” He leans in close and you mirror his movement so that you can hear his whisper.

“It’s how many people I killed,” he whispers and you blink in confusion. The absurdity of his statement makes you chuckle, there must be thousands of little marks. Your eyes go to his for the truth and his eyes full of humor stare through yours. “You’re kidding,” you whisper. His head shakes ever so slightly to signify that he’s not kidding. Realization dawns on your face and the humor evaporates. “How is that even possible,” you mouth. His eyebrow ticks, “I used to be into some crazy shit,” He stresses the crazy and it makes you sit back and stare at him. There is so much you don’t know about this man. You were so enamored with his appearance and his personality, you didn’t think to explore the depths of his mind and his past.

“Can I ask you something else,” you pause and he nods, “Why didn’t you and Kendra make it?” He sighs and rests his arms on the table, folded in front of him. “Kendra…,” he plays with the name in his mouth and exhales again, “we were going in two different directions. She wanted things I couldn’t give her. That shit drove a wedge and then we both moved on. She found what she wanted and I’m happy for her.”

“What did she want,” you ask. He shrugs, “Kids… family.. white picket fence and shit.” Sounded kind of nice, but also too close to what you would have had with.. what’s his name… Amont. You weren’t ready for anything like that again and after tonight, you weren’t sure when you would be. You were enjoying the unpredictability of life and you wanted to maintain that freedom.

“What about you,” he asks, “how are you holding up? That nigga still on your mind?”

You didn’t give a fuck about that nigga. “Helllll no,” you say channeling Chris Tucker and he laughs. “That was dead after the first time you kissed me.”

“Damn that kiss did a lot,” he grins and you give a grin to match. It was true. You were still under his spell and no admission or confession would lift it. You were officially sprung.

“Can I say something else,” you whisper coming in close and he mirrors your movement.    

“I like you a lot,” you whisper. He shakes his head smiling and in his normal voice, “Damn that’s it? I think I’m obsessed with you.”


	5. Chapter 5

“You are noottt,” you lull, rolling your eyes at your nuggets. You feel your face heating. Your irratic heart fights with your logic for control over your reaction and your next response, but they share a mutual hope.

Please be true..

“You mean to tell me you don’t feel the same way, not even a little bit..,” his eyes remind you of the clean air after a storm, a soul-soothing haze that managed to put you at ease and somehow excite you all at once. His words were the storm, a lightening strike to be specific. This man was a whole mood and you felt that shit all through you.

“I feel… charged,” you smirk inwardly. “Like when I’m with you, the sky is the limit and there are no borders. We could do anything or be anyone. I can be my true self. I haven’t felt this… free in… I don’t– Actually, I don’t think I have ever have felt this free,” you stare at your straw and it beckons you to take a sip, “I don’t want to lose this feeling." 

Or you..

"Then you won’t,” he says simply, “The thing that keeps life monotonous is having all the answers mapped out. It’s good to have a plan, but some deviations will take you further than your plans. Like with me for example..”

Your eyes excuse him and his hand raises, “Hold up.. before you get your ass whooped in this McDonald’s.. I’m actually talking about me. My original plan for tonight was to perform, smash some lil groupie, and crash,” his eyebrows raise, “…well actually I stuck to that pretty well. I ain’t gon’ cap.” You kick him under the table halting his self-congratulatory tangent and he laughs into the back of his hand before collecting himself.

“Nah, but I had plans,” his soft eyes drift to your 4 nuggets left in their carton. Sixteen of their siblings are in your stomach. He steals one popping it into his mouth, “I’m a tell you about it in the car.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You collect what’s left of your nuggets and carry them with you.

“Gimme one,” he says once you’re on the road again and his mouth opens in wait. You put a nugget to his face and raise it to his nose. His mouth follows your hand until you finally shove the nugget in. You were practicing for tomorrow’s role reversal.

But tonight he was being transparent, telling you anything you wanted to know, within reason. You needed to take advantage of that. 

“So your plans.. what were they?”

“Revenge.”

Your head tilts and you give him his signature questioning stare.

“My family’s situation is uh.. complex,” he pauses, “My father was murdered by one uncle and betrayed by another. I killed one, but the other died. I tried to kill my cousin after that. I threw him off a waterfall and tried to steal weapons and shit, but the bitch came back and it ain’t work out like that. We fought, he could have killed me, but he didn’t. When I regained consciousness I was fully healed and my family apologized. I didn’t think I cared about some weak ass apology, but it mattered. I’m still angry, but I know it wasn’t their fault. They wanted me to stay.. there.. but I left and went back to Oakland. I started writing. Someone said, yo E, you should start making music. So I did. Now I’m here.. in this car with you,” he glances over at your wide-eyed expression and you suck in your lips forming a straight line. 

“Too much information,” he smiles nervously. 

You regain your voice, but your mind is still actively firing warnings to any part of you that will listen. You choose to ignore them all. “Not too much. Don’t do that–You dropped a FEW bombs on me just then, I just need to process,” you pull your expression into something neutral, “where did all the other scars come from?”

“Military.”

You’d heard that he’d been in the military. Interviews made you think you knew so much about him already, but apparently they only scratched the surface. 

“What’s E stand for,” you ask. His head shakes in mock disapproval, “You call yourself my fan and you don’t know my real name? No. You fucked me and you ain’t know my name. That’s crazy.”

A large part of him meant that and you knew it. Before embarrassment could destroy you, you pulled out your phone. One missed call from Amont, no doubt another drunk dial. You ignore it and google Killmonger. Much of the content you’ve already seen before, but this time you check Wikipedia for his real name. Erik Stevens. You read the Wikipedia page. Rapper. A mixtape and an album. Signed to Interscope Records. He’s also a Gemini which explains the duality of his personas and his spontaneity. Following links, you read up on his sneaker obsession and see old photos of him with a fade. He looked so young. You smile at the screen. You like the locs better. His mustache got thicker too, you notice. He was always fine, but he still managed to glow up.

“You really are serious,” he says. You glance up from your phone and you’re back in the hotel parking lot. You didn’t even feel the car stop. Your attention goes to him and his eyes are appraising you. You let them as you stare right back allowing the accompanying silence to roll on between you. He sighs.

“I have high hopes for you shorty,“ he pauses and there’s what you know to be a genuine smile, "You’ll be just fine.” 

Just fine.. so he does still plan on leaving me behind.

–

Back in the room, you eat the last of your cold nuggets in peace. Erik’s laying across the bed with his eyes closed, tired of course. His day has probably been longer than yours. You check the digital clock on the nightstand. It’s close to 4 and you’re yawning into your hands at a consistent rate, but you refuse to lose time in this once in a lifetime opportunity with the man before you. Which is why you free your sore feet from the black heels and dash from the room, down the hall to the elevators. The run is invigorating and it wakes you up some. Erik is right behind you as the elevator doors slide open and you rush inside to quick-push a button. A childlike smile lights Erik’s face as he realizes the destination and when the doors open, you both take off, racing to the heated indoor pool. It’s deserted.

“First,” he hisses, somersaulting into the deep end. Your feet follow and you cannonball into the warm pool, floating back to the top where Erik has been waiting to ruin your graceful emergence with a splash.

“Ey,” you sputter, swimming toward the shallow end to gain some footing. He doesn’t seem to be struggling.

"I didn’t expect it to be warm, how can you tell if someone’s peeing if not by the temperature,” you ask.

“I wish you would pee in this damn pool, Y/N,” he laughs but his eyes issue it as a challenge.

Kissing your teeth, you send a wave of water to him, “Why you assume I’m asking for me?!“

He kisses his teeth in mock and your eyes roll, "Whatever, let’s play Marco Polo.”

“We could use this as a blindfold,” he pulls his soaked sock from his foot and your nose wrinkles. 

“Hell no. Just close your eyes!” 

His sock flies to the side of the pool and his eyes shut as he calls out, “Marco.”

“Polo!” You splash trying to confuse him as you drift about.

“Marco.”

“Polo.” He reaches out but you dodge his grasp and he laughs. 

“If I catch you like this, I get to spank that ass.” 

“Nope,” you splash him and he lunges, fingers grazing your arm. He’d purposely let you go.

“Wasn’t a question. Marco.”

You float to the side of the pool and lift yourself out as silently as possible, but it still draws his attention in your direction. You stand, soaked and dripping, and tiptoe to the door.

“MARCO!” and then his eyes are open. He’s after you.

You giggle madly down the hall, leaving puddles of water everywhere with Erik in hot pursuit and before the elevator can come, his body crashes into yours squeezing you into a tight embrace as your laughs flows freely from your gut. He pulls you into the arriving car and his arms around you serve as a straight jacket, keeping your movements contained. His lips land on your neck and he breathes his laughter into your skin. 

“Polo.”

“I won though.”

“It doesn’t count, you ain’t catch me in the pool.”

“Cuz you cheated! I win by default.”

You step from the elevator and pull against his weight. His body follows, refusing to release yours.   

“Nope, you’re salty. I won that.” You continue to pull his weight forward.

“It’s my night, I win. End of.”

Your eyes roll and you focus all of your energy into an impromptu escape attempt, but his arms don’t budge. 

“That was weak,” he laughs as he tightens one arm and releases the other to swipe his key in the door. 

“I think you left your sock, let me go get it” you attempt, but he pushes you back into the room. 

–

Your damp clothes hang over the tub in the marble bathroom. Erik said he’d have them cleaned along with his own in the morning. You were now dried off and naked on the balcony cuddled together, you on his lap on the chair taken from the room. Wrapped warmly under the comforter stripped from the bed. The sky was still dark and cloudy, but it wouldn’t be long before sunrise. Back in the room, you’d checked your reflection and realized your hair had reverted. Again, you looked absolutely crazy, but he didn’t seem to mind or care. He just watched you braid the mass into two French braids. He’d waited until you stripped off the soaked through jersey to snap your butt with that damned belt, but it was one quick smack as if to make good on his promise. You couldn’t even be mad at it. You really liked that about him. When he said something, he meant it. You could take everything he said to you at face value and that included the expiration date of the relationship. He was very upfront with his intentions and you knew one of those intentions were to leave. He had to, he was on tour. Realistically, you couldn’t leave DC to chase him. You had an apartment and a job. Plus, Anaya would miss you too much. Your life was monotony and when he left, you’d probably return to it. His words return to your mind..

Some deviations will take you further than your plans..

“Hey Erik..,” your use of his actual name visibly catches him off guard, “I was thinking about what happens when I return to work on Monday and I was wondering.. how did you transition into music and find your success? Like, what gave you the courage to drop everything else and go for a newfound passion?”

“You got something you tryn’ go for,” he questions. You nod.

“Life isn’t promised and time waits for no one.” His face grows serious. “When an opportunity arrives, take it. Don’t consider how you should react or how others will feel. Take the opportunity and throw yourself into it. Follow it through. Say yes to everything even if you’re unsure and commit yourself to making it all happen. One day you’ll look up and you’ll realize you’ve made it. When that happens come find me.”

You blink staring down at him and he lightly pinches your cheek. 

“I will,”  you promise.

You relax into him and the two of you continue watching the sky as it changes.  


	6. Chapter 6

Last night you and Erik sat intertwined on that balcony as the sun rose, gradually transforming the deep dark palette into rich oranges and pinks. The chirping of small birds brought you into the new day. A fresh day. Your day. You planned to milk it for every drop of love and attention Erik could provide… after a nap.

“It’s my day now,” you whisper into Erik’s lips. His eyelids are heavy and so are yours.

“Anything you want, babygirl,” he murmers and you can tell he’s been struggling to hang on, unwilling to sleep.. just like you.

“I know exactly what I want. Follow me.” With a quick kiss, you rise and drag him and the comforter back into the room, locate your phone, and set a two-hour alarm. Collapsing onto the bed, you bury yourself and him underneath the warmth of the blanket. Like magnets you find and cling to each other, your leg over him and his arm around you.

“Two hours,” you whisper into his scarred chest, but he’s already out. His breathing is even and so is the faint thump of his heartbeat. So you follow suit and close your eyes, listening to the consistent beat until sleep claims you.

–

“Baby, stay with me..” It’s faint, but you hear it. Are you strong enough to overpower your exhausted body enough to move your lips and respond?

“I won’t leave if you don’t.” Yes! You managed to pull yourself from the wave of unconsciousness threatening to swallow you whole every few seconds and respond. Now he knows. He knows how you feel.

“Come with me..” The words float through you, grinding against your glee like silk you can wrap yourself in. You want to melt into this wonderful man, becoming one.

“I love you,” you whisper. A sensation comes over you as though you’re being tickled.. on your pussy.. or.. are you peeing?! Your eyes snap open and there’s a large lump under the cover between your wet thighs. You can feel wetness leaking out of you and lots of tongue. You pull back the cover and Erik’s thick head of black kinks is there like an extended pubic bush. For a moment you’re entertained imagining your pussy with locs, but that entertainment is quickly replaced by a building ache that has you climbing the sheets like walls. His fingers attack your g-spot like John Boyega attacked the block and as you lose your breath, you pull on those short locs, causing him to suck you harder like last night. The smacking of his fingers inside you becomes loud squelching and then you freak..

“I gotta pee..,” you squirm, but his strong hands pin you down firm while the feeling comes stronger.

“No you don’t,” he briefly counters.

You don’t know if you want to cum or piss and that scares you, but it really scares you to know that this situation can go downhill very quickly if he doesn’t move. “Erik move, I really gotta pee,” you murmer trying your best to push him away, but he doesn’t let up.

“Let go,” he says.

Your head swims as you try to hold back, but his unrelenting fingers have your entire being trapped in a sexual limbo. You just want to ascend into bliss. With nowhere to run, you have no choice. You let go and liquid shoots from you, soaking his beard, his neck, and the hotel sheets.

“SHIT,” Erik gasps as you lay there thinking about the deviance of what just took place.

“You making a mess babygirl!.. You doing this for daddy to clean up? Huh?” His mouth returns to the scene of the crime and slurps at the evidence as he strategically hooks his fingers into you again.

“Nigga I just R. Kelly’d you, how are you happy,” you squint, still breathless.

“This your first time squirting?” He looks perplexed, but then understanding kicks in and a tinge of sympathy.

You didn’t think you were capable of squirting because you never had. None of your exes had ever pushed your body to that point. Not even Amont and until Erik “Sex Guru” Stevens he’d been the best you’d ever had.

“I need to make up for that,” Erik breathes and the ache comes back twice as powerful, bringing a screech out of you. It’s not long before you’re squirting again, legs quaking out of your control. You feel yourself blackout for a full second, completed and empty.. heaving.

“One more baby,” his fingers go back to work and you want to cry, but no sound comes. All you can do is shake your head ‘no’ and try to close your twitching thighs. He’s already given you too much to handle. But as he holds your thighs apart, not giving a fuck about your fit, you’re pushed to the edge again almost painfully.

“Gimme that nut, Y/N, or I’m a come get it..,” he threatens and as if you’ve been classically conditioned to cum on command, you ejaculate again. He smacks your pussy, sending a jolt through you and returns his fingers. You cry out, overwhelmed.

“Gimme one more..” he commands, dominant side in full force on YOUR day. Tears flow as your body bucks like a wild house only he can tame.

“I’m.. done.” You struggle but manage to choke out the words.

“I’m.. not,” he counters, obviously entertained by your assertion.

“I ca– I can’t..,” your words fizzle into incoherent babbling and sobbing that he seems to still understand.

“Don’t tell me what you can’t do, you can do anything you put your mind to.”

You wanna punch him.. but you also want to scream and you do, loudly.

“Aw, it’s too much? My baby tired of nuttin,” his lips return to your sensitive clit and commands your body to jump over the ledge in another body-numbing orgasm. You twitch as the aftershocks hit you in hard waves and he stands above you to admire his work, pride written all over his handsome features.

“This what you should’ve had all along, but better late than never,” he says and kisses your forehead. You feel the upturn in his lips and then he’s gone.. into the bathroom.

–

By the time he exits the bathroom, you’ve recovered enough to stand up and shower. As he exits, you move to enter. However, he stops you in the doorway.

“What were you dreaming about,” he asks. Your mind traces back to your dream and it all comes to the forefront of your mind bringing heat to your face. It had felt so real. You didn’t even realize you were asleep until you woke up and then you were distracted..

“Nothing,” you say, your face neutral. He doesn’t buy it.

“If you say so,” he says passing you, “but.. you should know.. you talk in your sleep.” With that, he closes you and your budding thoughts into the bathroom and you’re faced with your own reflection in the mirror.

As realization dawns, you almost want to smack yourself as you are mortified. Your cheeks go hot and swell. You know exactly what you said.. and now you’re sure he heard it. If he wasn’t sure of how you felt about his plans before, he definitely knows now..

Stupid!

You close your eyes and attempt to self-soothe with deep breaths.

STUPID!

“Don’t think about it,” you whisper to your reflection and she says it back to you. Before you can obsess any further, you hop into the shower, scorching away the embarrassment with hot water. You try to wash the dream down the drain along with the water.

But what was with his reaction? He didn’t seem phased or concerned either way and you didn’t know what to make of that.. but he’d brought it up. He could’ve just ignored it and pretended you didn’t say it. Why did he bring it up? Was he giving you a chance to stop him or to go with him to New York? Was that possible?

No. He’d of said it. You wouldn’t have to guess.

Then what was his reason?

You step out of the shower and towel off, covering yourself in hotel lotion. You hear the room door click and a man’s voice, but you can’t hear what’s said before the door clicks again. You peak from the bathroom and Erik is standing there clad in nothing but the hotel towel as he stares at you in confusion.

“You coming out or that’s your new home in there,” his eyebrow raises. You walk out in a matching towel. His eyes scan over you and he raises a pile of clothes to your face. Red shorts and a black t-shirt. There’re also some black Nike slides that are too big for your feet. His clothes no doubt. You change into the outfit, but his slides flop on your feet.

“They too big,” you report as you flop about the space.

“It’s either that or your heels. What you wanna do?” He seems curt like something’s got him frustrated.

“What’s up, you seem tense.. Did something happen?” His face is frozen in a stare that goes straight through you. He’s pissed about something.

“Nah. I’m a get dressed and I’m a meet you downstairs. Wait for me in the lobby.” His dismissal catches you off guard. You don’t kiss him like you want to in fear of agitating him further. You just turn around toward the door, your hand lingering on the handle with a hesitant glance back.

“Whatever I did… I’m sorry…,” you say and you tuck yourself behind the door, closing it gently behind you. While you didn’t know what set him off, you hoped he wouldn’t stay mad at you.

After a few minutes admiring the coppers and cool metallics of the lobby’s design, you pull out your phone and snap a pic. Opening your text thread, you send it to the only non-work contact you’ve been communicating with, Anaya.

(Text) Watergate Hotel. Still with Erik. I think he’s pissed at me though.

Today is a Sunday and it’s around 9:30 AM. She’s probably tangled with Corey, sleep. You drop your phone into your purse, but take it back out as it buzzes.

(Text) Girl… I’m glad you texted me. I need you to click this link, but don’t freak out. If you freak out I’ll freak out and then I’ll catch a case. Then Corey will catch a case. Text me back. AND STAY AWAY FROM TWITTER.

(Text) http://m.tmz.com/#killmonger-balcony-escapade-on-tape

You didn’t even have to click the link for your stomach to drop. You knew exactly what would be on there and your entire body shook. Him.. He’d just move on with his life like nothing happened, but you.. you’d have to live this down. God forbid anyone at work sees this, you could lose your job. One reckless night, just one, and you’re on the gossip rags! Curiosity gets the better of you and you click the link. The blood drains from your face as you watch yourself get violently fucked, butt naked on a balcony. That damned balcony!

Killmonger rounds the corner and finds you standing with a strange look on your face and you can’t control your frustration as it pours out.

“Have you seen this shit?” You point the phone screen at him and his eyes dash toward the article and the photos.

“It’s censored,” he says as if that makes things okay.

“My face is in it.. Killmonger.” His eyes widen as if you just cussed him out or talked about his mama.

“Oh I’m Killmonger now?”

“You’ve always been Killmonger haven’t you? This isn’t okay and you don’t even care! It doesn’t effect you at all because it fits your image. You can just walk away from this and me like it’s nothing, but I have to stay here and deal with the fallout! I’m the one who’s gonna miss you. I’m the one whose face is gonna be plastered everywhere and I’ll probably get fired, OH GOD..”

He grabs you and you push him away, tears starting to fall, “NO! GET AWAY FROM ME!”

He grabs you firmly this time and when you try to pull away, he burries his face into your neck.

“I’m so sorry,” he says and his heart is clear in his voice, his earlier frustrations forgotten, “Baby I’m so, so sorry..”

You stop struggling and allow your tears to fall while he keeps apologizing.

“I was reckless and I should have known better. I should have protected you. I’m sorry.”

For a while you two just stay there in the middle of the lobby, his embrace tight and you.. congested with frustrated tears.

“You fucked up,” you sniffle, wiping your face. He’s still wrapped around you tightly and your heart hurts.

“Let me fix it,” he begs.

“HOW,” you yell. This whole situation was a huge mess and you were embarrassed.

“You once said you trusted me with your life.. I know I fucked up and this is asking for a lot, but trust me once more.”

“You’re right, it’s too much to ask,” you snap.

“One more time..,” he begs, “One..”

You sigh unaware of any other options. You have no one else who could help you with this or make this go away. Killmonger got you into this and if you were ever going to trust him again, he needed to get you out.

“…ONE. ONE more time,” you sigh and wipe your face one last time before he attacks your face with a barrage of small kisses.

“I’ll fix this,” he promises and for the first time, you wonder if you can trust him.


	7. Chapter 7

“Seriously? Have I given you a real reason to doubt me?”

You ended up following him to his car like a sad puppy despite your frustration. He’d still broken away from his crew and his driver yet again to spend the day with you and as upset as you were, you still wanted nothing more than to stay with him to the end of it. You knew it. You knew he knew it. This incident wasn’t enough to crumble the strong foundation the two of you had built in such a short time. The spell was still in full effect and against your mind’s judgment, your heart, though sore, had already forgiven him in that lobby. But he still needed to fix things!

You two were now eating a crappy McDonald’s breakfast in the McDonald’s parking lot. Your face was all on the internet and smeared all across social media as the “bold groupie” and people were picking you apart, comments ranging from insults and lewd remarks about the look, weight, and shape of your body to your assumed hoe nature. There was a meme. Already. Sources questioned who you were. Fans questioned what claim you had to their beloved Killmonger. Erik took away your phone so that you’d stop reading what everyone was saying. It only worked you up and getting worked up had never solved a problem.

“You haven’t, that’s why I’m still with you because I realize that, but I swear, Erik,” you laugh without humor, a threat in your eyes.

“On muvas, I know,” he offers and takes a large bite of his Bacon, Egg, and Cheese sandwich.

“As long as you know,” you throw back at him. Your breakfast is a Sausage McGriddles and tator tots, on him of course. “This shit gone mess my stomach up,” you say belching into your fist, “Excuse me.”

“That’s what happens when you keep eating McDonald’s. I told ya ass we should go out somewhere, but no, you scared,” he lectures and you hear so much of Anaya in him.

“I’m not scared nigga, I’m cautious, something we weren’t last night and I’m trying to steer clear of any more ‘escapades’.” He scoffs at your air quotes.

“Nah, you know what? Fuck all that. Once it’s out there, shit like this doesn’t just fade. There’s two approaches you can take. One, you bury yourself in a hole and cry like a little bitch or two, you woman the fuck up and own that shit.”

Your eyes narrow and he returns the attitude with a look that says try me.

“You regret being with me last night? Be honest.” His dark eyes are deceptively calm. You know there’s a storm brewing behind them and as neutral as he’s trying to be, he’s listening hard.

Anticipating the question, you’d already asked yourself the same thing once you’d calmed down. You sigh, “I’m mad because of how disproportionately this effects me and while I’m glad this doesn’t hurt you, I wish it didn’t hurt me. I don’t regret being with you. If I could do it over, I’d be with you again. I’m with you now.”

“This doesn’t effect me like it effects you, true, but at least for today until I leave.. what hurts you, hurts me and we can’t sit on this shit or it’ll get worse for you. We have to be proactive.”

“Right and what do you suggest,” sarcasm drips from your tone as you face him but he purposely ignores it.

“I say we finish what we started last night, but we turn it up a notch,” his fingers stroke your jaw and you pause, chiding yourself for succumbing to his charm and melting into his touch so easily. He has you under his thumb and he knows it. You roll over his words in your mind and his plan becomes clear to you. When you look at him, his dark eyes are trained on your features.

“You think we should play this up and really give them something to talk about.. Spin it our way..”

“You wanted freedom, didn’t you,” he shrugs, “what you gonna do?” It’s a challenge and you consider it. Your life of monotony was rocked lightly for one night and you were already tripping, crying for stability. This is another reason you knew you couldn’t follow him and it hurt to realize that he knew that, especially now that you’d already spazzed. It was like God had sent the ultimate test and you’d failed it miserably. A slight waft of shame and disappointnent washed over you. He was taking blame that wasn’t all his to bear and here you were, letting him. All that talk you’d done last night of being free and being yourself, but you were still hiding. This was something real. He was real. He hadn’t made you have sex with him. He hadn’t made you do anything. You wanted to. If you were honest with yourself, you didn’t regret a damn thing. Looking at the man beside you, watching you with careful regard, it emboldens you. Turning off your brain, you leap across the console and mash your lips hard against his, holding his beard in your hands. This time it’s his turn to melt and when you pull away, his eyes are mild like he’s at peace, a smile playing at the corner of his full lips as his eyes fall to your lips. You give him a quick peck and pop open his door.

“Take out the trash.”

He stares at you for a few seconds, but dumps the trash then returns. You watch him as he walks back, unwavering confidence in his stride. He was consistently this guy, the picture of boldness. He falls into the seat beside you.

“Aight then… Ms. Y/N, it’s your day and I’m all yours. What’s the move?”

You smirk devilishly and his answering smile is suppressed with with a light cough as he chuckles into his fist. Your eyebrows wiggle and he looks straight ahead knowing what’s coming. He nods in silent acceptance.

“I’m daddy now,” your velvet voice asserts and his eyebrows raise. “Call me Princess. I wanna hear it.. now,” you purr and his head shakes as if he’s signed a check he’s not quite ready to cash.

“Anything for my princess.”

“Good, now get out of the car.. and walk around. Open my door,” you instruct and he wordlessly obeys. You lean to pull out your phone from his door and you press the camera, aiming it at him.

“What I want is for you to get down on your knees on that pavement.. right there.. and crawl to me.”

Shock colors his face and he shakes his head with a turn as if to walk away, but then he faces back to you, “I just got these pants..” You hit record. “Say my title when you reach me.” His fake protests cease and a wicked smile twists his features making him even hotter and he pulls up his pants, dropping to his knees like the freak he is. Oh yes, you’ve waited to try some shit like this and this… was better than you’d hoped.

He crawls to you like a lion on the prowl, eyes on you while the camera is on him, and stops.. kneeling at your feet. “Unlike you, I don’t give a fuck about a camera, Princess.”

“Whatever. Rub my feet,” your foot pulls out of his slide and wriggles in front of him.

“You would with your funky ass feet,” his nose turns up, but he grabs your foot, pulling it into a thorough massage, repeating the process with the other foot.

“I think you’re into this,” you tease and his response is a bite to your big toe. Your eyes glance to the bulge in his pants and it hits you.. He IS into it. You continue to record him as he sucks your big toe into his mouth.

“You nasty,” you frown.

“You like it,” he retorts and then he’s on his feet, dusting off his knees to get back into the car. You wait for him to get adjusted, stowing the phone in your purse, and you rest your hand on his bulge.

“I wanna shop. What’s my limit?” Your hand squeezes causing him to grunt lightly, licking his lips. He’s controlling himself, amazingly self-disciplined. “No limit. Whatever you want.” Ooh, it’s like that. “You got moneyyyy,” you grin and he chuckles. His smile is everything with those perfect white teeth and golds. He takes off and you arrive at City Center DC. It’s a building complex full of expensive brand names. You follow beside him through the parking lot and through the entrance and you’re immediately self-conscious of your appearance. Messy frechbraided hair, no makeup, and shoes that don’t fit. His hand grabs yours and he leads you into BOSS. When neither of you see anything there, you try the next store. It’s pretty much a waste of a trip.. unless either you want accessories, you’re going to some type of gala, or you’re a middle aged southern woman named Carol.

“Why are all these clothes so stiff and bland,” you note to no one in particular but he agrees. He dresses nothing like what you see here and neither do you so you move to the next store, still not finding anything eye-catching.Turns out super expensive isn’t always better. Erik agreed to take you to a regular mall so that you could ball out there, but first you wanted to take a trip to Gucci to rescue this trip.

–

“You not buying another nigga’s shit with my card,” he’d fussed when you’d brought up buying a gift for Corey. Picking up red metallic Gucci high tops you’d pouted with puppy dog eyes and when that didn’t work, you threatened to pay for them yourself. That got him.

“We owe it to Corey that we even met at all, he’s the one that called to get me those backstage passes. And Anaya! I wanna get her a matching pair so that they can be all cute and stunt together. Can I do that? Please? Pleaasee?”

He’d softened and you’d left the store with both pairs, $790 each. You couldn’t wait to gift them and see your friends’ reactions.

–

Back in the car, your mind goes to his distant behavior earlier in the morning. He seemed to have gotten over it fast, but you wondered what had him so tight.

“Hey Erik,” you start and he responds. “Wassup.”

“Can we stop bullshittin for a sec and be real?”

“Please do..” His tone is very pointed as though you’re the lone bullshitter.

“Before I got mad at you.. and I should not have gotten that angry at you.. why were you so mad at ME this morning, what did I do?”

His mouth presses into a tight line and he rubs at his beard, hesitant. Finally, he speaks.

“My manager came by and showed me the article while you were in the bathroom and he thought it was you who leaked the info.. He was accusing you and I told him it wasn’t you, but really I ain’t know what to think..”

“Is that how you see me,” his admission is a hard blow, “just some clout chaser who’d put you on blast for 15 minutes of fame?” Ouch.

“That’s not how I see you, but it made me wonder if I was blinded by how I felt and the sex and maybe missing something. I couldn’t believe it, but maybe that was the problem, and I’d only known you for hours.”

“But.. Erik..,” you pause deciding to soldier through the reimmersement of yourself in the thick embarrassment of earlier, “You said I talked in my sleep, right? I remember my dream and I know exactly what I said so I know what you heard.. How could you think I’d do something like that after what I’d said?”

“Thought you said it was nothing,” he smirks.

“Erik,” he was changing the focus, “you’d heard what I said.”

“Did you mean it,” he asks point blank as if asking the time. This was starting to piss you off.

Fuck you think?

“Erik at this point you know exactly how I feel. You just don’t feel the same way and I’m not doing this with you.”

“Nah I don’t know how you feel. I heard you mumble shit in your sleep, but if you wanna say something to me say it when we’re both awake, like now. Wassup?”

“I’m gonna choke you and it ain’t gonna be sexual.”

“You could try.”

“Why is this turning into a fight,” you mumble, clutching your temples in exasperation, “Nigga I don’t want you to leave. Okay? I know you have to and that I can’t go with you for a whole lotta reasons but I’m not done being with you. I can’t pretend like I’m okay with walking away at the end of this, but I will because it’s what we agreed on.”

“So what you want me to do about it,” he shrugs and it zaps the fight out of you. You just shrug.

After a beat of silence, he breaks it.. “What is your passion? The thing you were talking about starting last night?” You shrug.

“Don’t shut down cuz you ain’t get what you wanted. Answer the question,” he sounds like someone’s daddy now.

“Singing. I want to sing.”

“But you can’t fuckin sing..,” he shoots and the bluntness catches you off guard causing you to do a double take to ensure you heard him right.

“I can do whatever the fuck I set my mind to, REMEMBER? Also, I CAN sing you just ain’t heard me. I wasn’t being serious the other night in the car.”

“Mhm, sing sum,” he challenges and you belt out the chorus to Halo by Beyonce.

The car is silent for a while as you wait for his smartass comment. “What type of music do you want to do,” he finally asks.

“R&B.. that trapsoul vibe.”

“You write lyrics?”

“Sure do.”

“So… How you gonna be a big singer if you afraid of scandals and people talking bad about you? Babygirl you gotta get out of that.” He glances at you and back to the road. “It’s cool that your heart’s in the right place, but you need to understand and somehow find peace in the fact that there are devils out here that wanna see a pretty brown girl like you fail.. and they’re gonna try and play you at every turn. You can’t let that shut you down or manipulate your emotions. You’re better than that.”

You want to roll your eyes, but after your morning freak out, you decide not to. He was completely right.. again. Dammit. You were the one fuckin up. “I’m tired of you being right,” you sigh and he smirks.

“I take my teaching role seriously and it looks like you’re learning a lot.”

“This has been very educational,” you deadpan with partial sarcasm.

“On a lighter note,” he says, “there’s still the matter of you assuming my feelings. You could just ask.”

“That’s a lighter note?” You scoff. He nods and then you’re suddenly nervous. You absolutely had assumed his feelings, too afraid to ask.

“What are your feelings? No wait, how do you feel about me specifically,” you face him and your eyes dig into him, waiting. Your heart pounds a little faster and you hold your breath.

“You should already know. I spoke it in your language,” he smiles brightly confusing and flustering you all at once. You gulp and your wide eyes beg for clarification.

“Your sleep talking…,” he gives a sneaky laugh, “Who’d you think was talking back to you?”

Realization slaps you in the face. OH SHIT….

“Wait, so does that– does that mean you actually do feel the same way?” Your heart feels like it could explode and his answering smile is everythingggg.

“What you want me to do about it?” He smiles and you feel that his question is genuine.

“Oh my– why you been fuckin with my emotions?!” You punch him in the arm hard and he laughs. “I don’t fuckin KNOW,” you laugh and it’s like a boulder has been removed from your chest. Honestly, you don’t know what you expect him to do about it or what you want to happen, but he feels the same way and to know that is enough for now. “Say it,” you command looking at his profile and he bites his lip. “Say what, Pinky?”

He scans your impatient expression and snickers again, “You’re too easy, but you’re my babygirl nonetheless.” You stomp your foot impatiently like Pinky from Next Friday, “Say the words nukka!”

He relents. “Fine. I luh you too.”

–

He took you to a regular degular mall with regular degular folk and like he promised and you went bonkers in all your favorite stores, sure you’d replaced your old wardrobe. When he left for New York, you’d be set. Even if you couldn’t keep him, you’d have a lot of stuff to show for it. He carried all of the many bags as you flitted from store to store. He even went to put bags in the trunk and returned so that you could continue to buy more.

“It’s him, it’s Killmonger!”

You turned and there were a few kids rushing to his side. They danced and took pictures with him before another group approached, snapping pictures. He signed their autographs and he showed grace as they snapped away, never asking permission. This was his reality. You try to imagine it and you cringe. You want the career without the fame, but as you’re witnessing, the good and the bad is a package deal. His eyes float up to you and he gestures with his head for you to approach. Closing off your mind, you channel the ideal you, a bolder you, and your feet slice through the growing group, bringing you next to Erik. He drapes his arm around you and kisses your cheek.

“Everyone take as many pictures as you want. Feel free to spread em’.. This right here is Y/N and she’s a new artist. Y'all gonna be seeing her more often, keep an eye out and support her.” Cameras angle toward you and start snapping your busted picture. Erik finds it absolutely hilarious and doesn’t make eye contact. He simply keeps his arm tight around your shoulders so you can’t dip. “Sing something for em’ Princess,” he says and turns back to the group, “someone pick a song.” A teenager yells out, “Bruno Mars. Just the way you are!” Erik turns to you, “You heard her.”

You calm your racing heart and open your mouth praying nerves don’t get the best of you. Thank God, they don’t. You don’t let the stares get to you either. Erik is right there supplying all of the approval you need and when you finish the groups applauds you. Two people even give you a hug, which warms your heart. This was the good side of fame, the love. You’d officially licked both sides of the coin and it gave you a lot to consider. Erik whisked you away from the small crowd and back to the car.

“New artist,” you ask when you’re back in the car and he leans into you, “I might have siced it a little bit, but It’s promo.” You meet his lean, granting his kiss and your eyebrows raise, “DMV slang too? You’re just full of surprises.”

He pulls out his phone and searches for a contact. “I’ll hook you up with a guy to get you started in a studio so you can be recording with professional quality. Can’t have you singing on a webcam and shit. I hope you come with the heat,” he rattles off a number and you plug it into your phone then he continues, “you work on that and then and come to Cali.. after my tour… look it up if you don’t know when it’s finished.”

“So you just ain’t gonna give me your number,” you tilt your head, incredulous, and he starts the car, “What you gonna do for it?”

“Oh I can think of something,” you smirk and as he pulls off, you unzip his pants, lowering your head to his lap.


	8. Chapter 8

“Make a left here, it’s the second building.” You looked out toward your apartment building as the car approached. It felt like ages since you’d been home, but you didn’t miss it. You’d spent the last three weeks there alone and sad, torturing yourself with old memories. Anaya was the one who’d snapped you out of your funk and brought you back to your senses, renewing your interest in being a part of society. And now Erik.. Erik’s presence was like sage, cleaning out all the bad air and replacing it with a fresh new energy. You felt refreshed when you were with him. There was something organic about your connection to him as though your meeting and mutual attraction was inevitable, or fated if you will. Smiling inwardly, you reach out to point Erik to your favorite parking space, but stop short noting a familiar white camry in the spot. A flurry of mostly unidentifiable emotions rises within you, but the emotions that you manage to pull out are annoyance and frustration. Erik finds another spot to park and turns to you, noting your change in temperament.

“What’s wrong,” he asks, shrewd eyes searching yours. As you look into his dark brown eyes, for the first time you’re deeply and truly irritated by the thought of your ex man.

“I’m really over that nigga,” you murmer softly, eyes focused on Erik with awe. Every part of you was singing with the realization that reinforced itself. You knew before, but you hadn’t been tested. This was a new test and this time, you were acing it. “That’s his car in my space.. I really don’t know why he’s here.”

Erik’s eyes lower and dart to the Camry, then he’s out of the car leaving you and the shopping bags behind. You hop out to scurry after, catching up to him at the building entrance and he steps aside to let you lead the way. You lead him to the elevator and press 4 taking you up to your floor. There’s no sign of Amont and you’re surprised. Your eyes float to Erik and his jaw is tensed. The darkness you’d witnessed in the bedroom when he was in his dominant flow was back along with the chill in your spine, but this time it was amplified. The nondescript story of his keloids flashed to the forefront of your mind as you remembered he’d killed for them. The threat behind his eyes was completely real and that Camry had triggered it.

“Maybe he knew someone else in the building, afterall he basically admitted to me when I left him that he got around. It’s possible that he cheated with someone in my building, I wouldn’t put it past him,” you offer. Afterall, it really didn’t matter now what Amont did or with who as long as he wasn’t bothering you. Maybe he’d stop calling soon too. You hoped. You unlock your apartment door and head to your kitchen. Erik follows you inside, still on alert. You pull out two glasses and a bottle of your red wine, setting them on the counter in hopes of calming him down. You pour and hand him his glass, moving it to his lips. He sips. Then you move behind him to rub out the tension in his muscular forearms and shoulders. It takes a minute for him to visibly relax. You continue to soothe him, massaging his broad back through his shirt.

“Erik, it’s okay! Even if he IS in the building, he meant for me to see him. That’s why he used my spot because he wants me to feel jealous, but the jokes on him. I’ve moved on to better things and I have no intention of going backwards.” Your fingers drag to play in his beard, finding rest on the sides of his face. His eyes to soften as his pupils dilate. “Erik, we don’t have much more time together. Don’t let him ruin what we do have.. because I’m not,” you smile. He bends to place a gentle kiss on your lips before backing slowly out of your door, no doubt to retrieve your many bags. He’d charged hastily to the building’s entrance as though he expected Amont to be there waiting. You don’t even want to think of what he could have done had Amont actually been there. That look in his eye was something terrifying. Talk about a jealous streak…

You dip into the bathroom to check out your reflection. You look rough, like all your life you had to fight.. and you look tired, but happy nonetheless. You pull out your phone and text Anaya. She texts back immediately.

(Text) Bitch where have you been? You can't keep disappearing on me like this.  
(Text) Been with Erik this whole time.  
(Text) Who is Erik? (Text) Killmonger Erik. That's his name. We're at my place. Going to say goodbye at the airport and take Lyft back.  
(Text) Text me when. I'll pick you up. 

You tote the phone into you room and drop it on your bed, quickly stripping from Erik’s clothes. You feel a pair of strong arms around your waist and you smile leaning into the embrace..

Into a torso that’s completely and awkwardly smooth…

You nearly jump from your skin, covering your chest with your arms as you spin around, eyes wild.

“Amont! Why are you in my apartment,” you yell. He’s shirtless with basketball shorts, Nike socks and slides. Did he come here from the gym? How long had he been here? Why was he in your bedroom? Questions pop up endlessly in your mind as he replies, “I still have a key, remember.”

“Well give it back and get the hell out,” you snap, “I don’t know what part of we’re over you don’t understand!”

He scoffs stepping forward and you step back to his irritation. His strange behavior is causing alarms fire off in your head and you’re no fool to wait for things to escalate. He’s never dropped by unannounced even when you were together and now here he is in your bedroom. Your eyebrows knit together. “Why the fuck are you here, Armont?” Something was definitely off about him. You make a dash to the bedroom door, but he cuts you off, slamming the door. You back up as he walks toward you, eyes aflame.

“I ask for an open relationship and you can’t do that after two years with me, but you turn into a thot real fast for some money.” His tone is biting as he walks up on you, a threat in his stance. Pulling a wad of cash from his pocket. He throws it at you, bills scattering. You stand your ground, managing to cross your arms despite his violation of your personal space. “You done?”

He shakes his head, disgust in his eyes, “Not in the least, I’m a paying customer baby.” You pushes you down into your mattress and your own anger swells. He was a betrayer in more ways than one with a victim complex, you now that you were no longer blinded by your feelings, you saw it clearly. You promised yourself in that instant you’d never be blind again. Your fists fly with furry and you manage to land a solid hit to his ribcage. He flinches from the pain and sends it back to you with a mighty slap in the face. “What the fuck,” you shriek, exasperated as his hands wrestle and pin yours above your head. “I saw the video,” he breathes working hard to keep you under control, “and you ain’t nothing but a common whore.” Your eyebrows raise and you can’t help but cackle at the nerve of this hypocritical ass nigga. A hard slap falls across your cheek causing your head to turn from the impact and you catch his second attempt, ire in your eyes. You could kill this man. “This the shit you like? You want a nigga to beat the shit out you? That turn you on?” You shove him, but he comes back stronger. “GET THE HELL OFF OF ME,” you yell. He backs off, anger written all over his features. “You’re an ungrateful bitch you know that? He’s a celebrity, who are you? He’ll run through you like trash and throw you away because you don’t matter. At least I was willing to marry your dumbass.” You exhales showing you for the last time who he really is.

“You forfeited any right to comment or care when you cheated on me,” you spurt back, “or have you forgotten.”

“Yeah, I have other women and that’s not going to change. You’ll ruin your whole life and career just because you can’t accept your role,” his voice is incredulous as though you’re not understanding the simple logic that should be obvious.

The front door opens and closes leaving a question mark on Armont’s face. You hear Erik’s voice and it sounds like he’s on the phone. Obviously, Armont thought Erik had left for good. That realization tickles you as your eyes meet Armont’s again. “Erik,” you yell, “Babe can you come here please?” You hear a bunch of bags hit the ground. Erik rounds the corner opening the bedroom door and his bright eyes go dark, narrowing at the scene. You’re naked and covering yourself and Armont is in the room, glaring at both of you, but now his attention is on Erik, sizing him up. Armont is three inches taller, but Erik is stronger and Erik has experience..

Erik’s eyes don’t leave Armont, putting two and two together. “Did he touch you,” Erik asks. You decide to be honest. “He hit me, but he’s never done that before today. I just need my key back and for him to leave.” Biting his bottom lip, he gestures with his head for you to go behind him. You do without delay. He strips his shirt off and hands it to you and you put it on. Your eyes fall to the abundance of scars on Erik’s skin and you think about the look that was in his eye.

“You ain’t plan this shit out well,” he says catching Armont off guard. “You cutty as fuck. You should’ve stopped when you saw we was happy.” Armont’s eyes flicker with rage and you silently wonder what Erik’s talking about. “You might as well give it up now nigga, all them weakass texts,” he scoffs. He’d obviously been through your messages. Armont walks up on Erik and Erik doesn’t move. When Armont’s eyes go to you, Erik’s left hook flies across his face causing you to wince as though you felt it. Armont swings and misses almost hitting you and you back up. Erik is too fast and he grips Armont bringing him down into a headlock making Armont’s fight futile. “She not coming back to you and even if she wanted to, I wouldn’t let her,” Erik smirks, amused. Armont looks like he’s about to pass out and Erik lets him go with a shove, moving around to watch his eyes. After a few labored breaths, Armont’s eyes fill with a new rage. “Come on,” Erik dares with a ‘come here’ motion, an evil glint in his own eye. Armont sloppily charges. Erik takes him down in a smooth combo that tells you he’s definitely done this many times before. “I’m a end this shit,” he says with his arm wrapped around Armont’s neck. Armont is clinging to consciousness and fear spikes within you. “Don’t kill him,” you caution.

“Why not,” Erik’s eyes focus on you. “Don’t throw your career away, he’s not worth it. I’ll be okay. I know you don’t want to kill anymore, it’s not you. You don’t have to,” you rush to get the words out, but it’s too late and Armont’s body goes limp. Erik stands, eyes still on you.

“Disappointed?” He has no sympathy over his actions and you’re in shock.

“Erik,” you freeze, words stuck in your throat. He approaches you slowly and puts his arms around you. Your body wraps around his, on autopilot and he strums your back. “Calm down,” he says lowly. The words tumble from your lips, “Erik you killed someone in my apartment what’s gonna happen?”

His lips go to your ear, “We run.”

You jerk your head to look at him and there’s humor in his eyes. “Run where? New York? Would that even work? Are they selling more tickets on your flight? It’s probably too late.. How are we supposed to cover this? What is so funny,” you sigh in frustration, mind running a mile per minute. He just killed your ex in your apartment and he thinks it’s funny. You look at him, “Erik…”

His hands cup your face and he laughs, unguarded. “Babygirl.. Calm down he’s just sleep for a bit, he’ll wake up.” You exhale a shaky breath and collect yourself.

“You was really finna ride for me though, damn. That’s loyalty.” He smiles and his golds glow. As if on cue, Armont comes to and before he can fully come back to himself Erik is on him.

“Stay away from Y/N. If I hear about you contacting her or coming near her I’m a be on the first plane back to DC.. and just know, if I gotta spend my time on that bullshit I’m a kill your ass. This is your only warning.” Then with another crushing punch to the face, Armont is out. Erik searches his body, obtaining and returning your key. You return Erik’s clothes and change into your own, a simple tank with jeans and Vans. He picks up Armont’s limp body and you lock your front door, following behind him. He carries Armont all the way out into the light and public of day, throwing him roughly into the front seat of his own car. You’re confident that after Armont wakes this time and sees his messed up face in the review mirror, he’ll think twice before bothering you again.

Slipping into the passenger seat of Erik’s car, you gaze at him, admiring all the small details of his facial features. You liked him now more than ever. He starts the car and pulls off.

—

You guys laughed and sang along to the radio on the way to the airport, enjoying each other’s company and you were pleasantly surprised to learn that Erik didn’t have a terrible singing voice. It wasn’t great. He definitely shouldn’t quit his day job, but it wasn’t horrible. The second he’d caught you listening too hard, he’d stopped. You’d suggested that he sing something on his next album, just for one track but he’d scoffed at the idea. “I’ll leave that to you,” he’d said smiling at your confused reaction. He refused to elaborate any further. He was also ecstatic to learn that you were a fan of anime. You didn’t know he could talk so much until the subject came up. “WHAT YOU MEAN YOU AIN’T SEEN BERSERK” he’d almost screamed. You thought he was going to pull over and stream it on his phone right there. “I ain’t seen it, nigga! But you haven’t seen Samurai Champloo or Psycho Pass. HOW?” The heated convo had went on until you were standing in the airport. You decided to walk with his as far as you were allowed.

“Hey Erik,” you start, turning the conversation and his brows raise knowing that a big question is coming up. “What did you mean earlier when you told Armont he should’ve stopped when he saw we were happy? When did he see us happy?” Erik breathes a laugh and shakes his head turning to you.

“You gotta promise not to get mad,” he says, eyes dancing and with a nod, you promise.

“This morning, you was sleep and he had that hotline blinging. Almost woke you up so I handled it.”

“What you do,” you ask like a mother disciplining her child. He licks his lips, fighting another smile but his dimples are in full view and it warms you. He takes out his phone and pushes some buttons. You pull out your phone and open a text from an unknown number. It’s a pic of him and you. You’re snuggled into his chest sleep with a peaceful look and he’s flipping off the camera.

“Now you have my number,” he says. You look at him and he puts away his phone ignoring his missed calls and messages. You catch a quick glimpse before the screen darkens. His people must’ve been hitting him up the entire time he was missing, but he didn’t pick up the phone once when you were together just like you didn’t.. shaking your head to clear it, you refocus.

“You sent Armont this picture,” it’s a statement not a question and he nods adding, “from your phone.” Your face cracks into a broad smile, “You are pettyyyy.” He shrugs.

He pulls you into a tight embrace and you can feel that this is a goodbye so you squeeze him back, hard. You think of crying, but you will yourself to hold it together. He wouldn’t want you to cry. When he releases you, you let go and he tilts your chin up one more time. “Don’t get stuck on me,” he murmurs, “go on dates.. have sex.. have fun.” Your face falls a little not even wanting to think of being with someone else. “Don’t feel that way,” he says reading your expression, “just do you and be happy. Chase that fuckin dream and like I said, come find me when you’re done.”

“What if I don’t come,” you test, “what if I really move on to someone else?”

He smiles a genuine smile before retreating toward the security checkpoint. “I honestly hope you do,” he calls over his shoulder, “…So I can bring that ass back to me again.”

You watch intently as he’s scanned and he flashes his boarding pass. Turning back to you, he pulls out his phone. Yours buzzes and you pull it out to reveal a new message from him.

(Text) You couldn’t move on if you tried.

You look up to see his dimpled profile as he turns to walk away. You know he’s smiling. Channeling your newfound freedom and courage, you yell out after him.

“I LOVE YOU, BITCH!! I AINT NEVER GONNA STOP LOVING YOU… BITCH!!!”

You see his arm go up and you know he’s laughing into his fist the way he does. The security is staring at you like you lost your mind so you duck your head in apology and turn to leave, calling Anaya.


End file.
